


Anything You Ever Dreamed To Be Complete

by Lavendergaia



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-06 00:38:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4201230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavendergaia/pseuds/Lavendergaia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even when everything is falling apart, Skye still has Trip. She thinks that might just be enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything You Ever Dreamed To Be Complete

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ardentaislinn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentaislinn/gifts).



> Happy very belated birthday, Aislinn! <3 I love youuu!
> 
> Thank you to ruthedotcom and vanessagecko for betaing.
> 
> Song title from the Goo Goo Dolls' "Slide"

The first time Skye kisses Trip, she is stunningly drunk.

It’s just after Simmons leaves to do… whatever it is Simmons is going to do. Skye’s not really sure she cares. For once, the lounge is empty and she and her bottle of vodka take over the couch. She’s expecting to be alone; Coulson is gone again, May is going over their firearms inventory with Koenig, Mack is in the garage, and Fitz…

She has no idea where Fitz is and the thought makes her take a long swig of the alcohol, ignoring the burn. It used to be that Fitz would always be with Simmons and they would be doing science or some other geek stuff, but now she has no idea where either of them are and the ache doesn’t leave the pit of her stomach. On nights like this, it’s hard not to realize how fucked up everything is.

Sprawling across the couch, she picks at the label on the bottle. It was probably full when she had started but she doesn’t really remember anymore. Skye knows that if May walks in, she’ll get the _look_ and possibly a lecture about taking care of herself, plus an extra hard ass kicking at training in the morning. If it was Coulson, he would give her his own version of the _look_ , the one that’s just compassion and understanding and pity and she presses her face into the arm of the couch so she can stop seeing it.

She’s never really missed anything before, never had anything or anyone worth missing.

It fucking sucks.

She doesn’t realize she’s no longer alone until she feels a warm, solid hand on her back. Turning quickly, her racing heart doesn’t calm when she sees Trip’s smile. “Is this a private party or can anyone join?” he says. His smile is bright, but his eyes are concerned and she feels like that’s probably valid.

“Well, it was private, but since it’s you…” She curls her legs up into her stomach, freeing up space at the end of the couch. When he sits, his hand skims over her calf until she straightens out again, feet resting on his lap. His hand never leaves her skin, gently caressing the curve of her ankle.

His warm brown eyes find hers and she doesn’t look away, even though she wants to. “You want to talk about it?” Something stirs in her at his voice, low and earnest, and she swallows hard.

“I’m fine.” It’s a lie and he knows it’s a lie, but he nods anyway. She takes another long gulp of the vodka before handing the bottle out to him. He hesitates before accepting it from her, and she eyes the long column of his throat as he tilts his head back to take a swig.

He places the bottle on the coffee table, just out of her reach. “You know if that’s Hunter’s, he’s gonna kill you when he gets back.”

Skye snorts. “I can take Hunter. A baby could take Hunter.” Laying her arm over her face, she tries to block out the light of the room and the light in his eyes as his gaze falls on her again. Her throat tightens as she says, “Do people ever really come back?”

She feels him gently squeeze her leg before he says, “They do. When they can. Timing doesn’t always work out the way you want it to, but when they care, they come back. You just gotta wait for them to do it when it’s the right time.” The logic makes sense to her, but she can’t feel it, not in her gut or in her bones or in that empty space next to her heart. He clears his throat before adding, “’Course, some people never leave at all. It doesn’t make them better or anything, it just means they’re here and they care, too.”

Pulling her arm away from her face, she regards him carefully. He’s staring down at her legs, thumb stroking rhythmically against her bare skin. She struggles to sit up and his hand comes up to support her back—he is easily strong enough for both of them. The world is spinning and Skye finds herself leaning against his side, head on his shoulder. His deep breathing is soothing and she nuzzles up against his neck. “Thank you.”

“You know me, girl,” Trip says and he wraps his arm around her back so that he can hold her. “I know what I like and I stick with what works.”

She pulls away from him, resting back in his grip. Even as her vision goes hazy, she can still see his face, his smile and his eyes and every part of him that radiates light and goodness. Her chest hurts when she looks at him, but for a different reason altogether.

Putting her hands on either side of his face, she pulls him down to press her mouth against his. He kisses her slowly, filling her with his warmth as his lips move slowly over hers. The buzz in her head grows stronger, drowning out all other thoughts than those of him. She feels hungry and needy and her hand tightens around his neck to keep him close.

He kisses her until she’s breathless and she takes a minute to recover. Her body doesn’t know what to do with this special kind of adrenaline and her lungs heave to take in air. It doesn’t taste as good as he does and she leans back in to slot their mouths together. For just a moment, he kisses her passionately, the sensation making her head swim with feverish want, but then he eases back.

“How drunk are you?” he says, brushing her bangs away from her eyes.

“Pretty drunk.” She’s vaguely sure she’s starting to remember being the first one to open that bottle, but she doesn’t want vodka anymore, she wants him to kiss her again.

He acquiesces, just the slightest brush of his lips against hers before he guides her off his lap and solidly onto the couch. She frowns until he takes her hands and gently pulls her to her feet; she has to hold on to his shirt to keep her balance. The muscular arm that settles around her waist helps and he starts walking out of the lounge. “C’mon,” he murmurs. “I think bed would be the best decision now, or you are going to regret this in the morning.”

Gripping the neck of his t-shirt to get his attention, she stares up at him as seriously as she can manage. “No, I won’t.”

He smiles, then nods over his head back at the abandoned bottle of vodka. “You’ll regret that.” She’s not sure that she can debate that, so instead she lets him walk her to her room, using him to keep her on her feet. “I’ll even bring you my special hangover cure in the morning.”

Tightening her hand around his arm, she swallows hard. “You’ll be here in the morning?”

Burying his face in her hair, he says, “I’m not going anywhere, Skye. You don’t have to worry about me.”

She nods, heart weighing a bit less heavy in her chest. Closing her eyes, she leans into him, trusting him to get her where she needs to go.

* * *

It’s late at night, or possibly early in the morning, when she stands in front of the refrigerator in the kitchen, looking over the contents for the dozenth time. It doesn’t change no matter how many times she opens and closes the stainless steel door. She’s almost comforted by the thought, by the fact that something doesn’t change.

Wandering away, she considers making coffee, knowing that she will not sleep tonight. Part of her thinks she won’t sleep ever again, that the nightmare that is her life will keep her up forever. Skye’s mostly okay with that—she really doesn’t want to know what her subconscious will do with this new information about herself.

Someone clears their throat and her hand immediately goes to her hip even though she hasn’t been wearing her gun for hours. When she looks over at Trip, he doesn’t seem offended; in fact, his face is perfectly neutral in an almost unnerving way. He comes to stand next to her, leaning against the counter as casually as one can. It would almost lead her to believe he doesn’t feel the palpable tension in the air, but she knows better than that.

She waits for him to speak first. “If you’re looking for the alcohol, I’m pretty sure Hunter’s got it all. Possibly trying to drink enough to forget he was ever married.”

She almost smiles at that, but shakes her head. “No, just…looking.”

For a moment, he says nothing and they stand there in silence. “I’m glad Simmons is back,” he says finally, stretching his arms over his head. She allows herself to get out of her head for a moment to appreciate the view. “She was really excited to get back here. She looked good out there, though, almost like a real field agent.” When Skye doesn’t respond, he says, “I think things are a little awkward with her and Fitz right now, though. But I’m sure those kids’ll work it out. Even after all this, it’s impossible to think of one without the other.”

She nods in agreement. She’s not sure she’s ever seen those two not completely in sync, other than the early days of Fitz’s recovery, and those are still times she tries not to think about as much as possible. She thinks Simmons coming back should be the return of normalcy, a missing piece of her life clicking into place, but then she remembers the rest of her day and those hopes sink heavy to the bottom of her stomach.

“Are you glad she’s back?” Trip says, interrupting her reverie.

“What? Yeah, of course.” She stares at him wildly. It stings that he could possibly doubt that.

“I saw her in the hallway a while ago, she was looking for you,” he says. There’s no judgement in his voice but he avoids looking at her as he pokes his head in the fridge and pulls out the milk. “Told her you had a busy day and had probably headed to bed, that you’d see her tomorrow.” He checks in the tea kettle that’s sitting on the stove—Fitzsimmons’ tea kettle, she thinks, heart squeezing at the idea that that term may no longer be applicable—before he pours a hefty serving of milk inside. “You’re not gonna make a liar out of me, are you?”

“You sound like Coulson.” It’s not really an answer and she knows that.

Trip shrugs. “Nothing wrong with that, man’s got a good head on his shoulders.” He pulls two mugs down from the cabinet above the sink. “I just think she’s gone through a tough time and I’m not sure it’s going to get better right away. I think you’d help.” It goes unspoken that maybe it will help Skye too, but she can sense it in his tone.

She stares at one of the fluorescent lights above them, watching the subtle flicker every eight seconds. “Are we not going to talk about it then?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see his gaze fall on her. “Thought I’d wait for you to bring it up in case you didn’t want to.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to talk about my dad being a murderer?” Her voice catches on the last word and she squeezes her eyes shut against more potential tears.

She hears his feet on the tile as he comes to stand next to her, knows he does it on purpose so as not to startle her. “Do you want to talk about it?” he says, voice close.

“I’m sure you heard all the gory details of my family tree in debrief.”

“But do you want to talk about it?”

When she opens her eyes, they brim with unbidden tears. “Why is it that everyone who loves me is a monster?”

He moves further into her space, settling his hands firmly on her hips. She steadies herself with her hands on his arms, comforted by their strength. “That is not true,” he says and the conviction in his voice makes her look up. “Coulson loves you. I mean, it’s obvious to everyone that you’re his favorite. And May would do anything for you, you know she would.” As a tear gets loose, she reaches up to scrub at her cheek, but Trip doesn’t let her go. “I could tell from day one that Simmons loves you. She told me how special you were, how much she needed you in her life, and I’ve never once seen that girl be wrong. And I know it’s hard to remember sometimes because he’s going through some stuff, but Fitz loves you, too. I have no doubt in my mind that he cares about you, even if he can’t show it right now.”

Taking a deep breath, she nods her thanks. It’s a relief to hear someone say it—she doesn’t think Coulson ever would, hoping to maintain some semblance of a professional relationship, and she knows it’ll never happen with May. Simmons maybe, once Skye finally talks to her, and Fitz… well, Fitz doesn’t say much anyways, but she’s pretty sure he’s more of a show-er than a tell-er. But having the words come from Trip, who sees so much and knows her so well, even if they are just trying to make her feel better, it works.

Leaning down to rest his forehead against his, he whispers, “You are so loved and not one of them are monsters.”

She tilts her head up to catch his lips against hers and soon she sinks into the kiss. They’ve only done this a few times, after intense missions when adrenaline is high or in those quiet moments that they’ve managed to keep to themselves. She’s gotten so used to him touching her, casually yet intimately, that she forgets what it feels like to kiss him until she does—that the butterflies in her stomach turn into quinjets, that her skin can erupt with goosebumps even as she feels her entire body overheat from his touch, that it sparks a craving in her that she doesn’t think will ever be fully extinguished.

It’s a slow press of lips to lips, stoking the fire already burning inside of her. As with everything in her life, it is Skye who escalates things, who licks along his bottom lip until he’s sucking on her tongue. His taste overwhelms her and she can’t remember ever being so hungry for someone before.

They’re interrupted by the whistle of the kettle and Trip takes it as a sign to take a step back. When he goes to remove the kettle from the stove, Skye leans back against the counter, curling her hands over the edge of the countertop. As she catches her breath, she watches him pour the milk into the mugs, then spoon in a generous helping of hot chocolate powder into each cup. After stirring quickly, he reaches into one of the cabinets in the island and reveals a bag of mini marshmallows. “They’re Mack’s favorite,” he explains as he dumps a handful in the top of the hot chocolate. “If I don’t hide them, I won’t have any left.”

Skye can’t help but smile at that. When he brings the cups to the table, Skye follows him. They sit next to each other in silence and Skye’s comforted by the feeling of the warm mug in her hands and the way his shoulder brushes hers.  The hot chocolate is sweet on her tongue, but it’s not enough to distract her from the thoughts swirling in her head. Her dad and Raina and Ward and…it’s a bit overwhelming.

When Trip’s arm wraps around her shoulders, easing her against his side, she relaxes instantly. His familiar smell reminds her of home. “Thank you,” she murmurs into his shoulder.

“You don’t have to thank me.” His long fingers card through her hair. “It’s just cocoa.”

Looking at him out of the corner of her eye, she says, “You know what I mean.”

“Oh, about how everyone loves you and thinks you’re the greatest and how those other people aren’t worth a damn if their definition of caring is to hurt you?” He shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s just the truth. You know me, I’m an honest kind of guy.”

“What about you?” she says softly.

“What about me?”

She takes a long sip of her hot chocolate, staring at the marshmallows melting in the liquid. “You were talking about Coulson and May and Fitzsimmons… But what about you?”

Gently resting his fingers against the underside of her jaw, he tilts her head up so that she can see his face. He’s completely serious and his eyes are dark with something she can’t identify. His lips find hers and he kisses her passionately, so much so that she wonders if she’ll ever be able to really breathe again. He breaks away only to press warm kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her jaw, finally resting when his forehead touches hers. “I don’t… Skye ...There’s no words,” he says. “I can’t even say how I feel about you.”

She kisses him again, her chest pressing against his as she sinks into the sweet taste of his mouth. Her body slowly warms up the longer their mouths are slotted together, as if his presence can banish the cold chill of shock that has settled into her bones. As his arm slips around her waist, drawing her close, she thinks about how easy it could be to lose herself to him, how much more she wants him to heat her up.

Even she knows that it would be a bad idea, to surrender herself to her physical needs while still emotionally vulnerable. She knows that Trip would take care of her, wouldn’t hurt her, but he cannot stop her from hurting herself.

Instead, she pulls far enough away to kiss his cheek. Snuggling up to her side, she takes a long drink of her hot chocolate. Trip’s arm wraps around her shoulder, his hand slowly stroking down her arm. For just this moment, it actually feels like everything might just be okay.

* * *

She knows that this debriefing is important—no one has to tell her that. They’ve found proof of the city, they have to make plans, they have to get things in place. But Coulson can see that she’s distracted as they sit in his office, trying to map out all of the possibilities. Finally, he puts his hand on her shoulder, as if to comfort her, but all she can see is the spots of blood on his sleeves. “Go on,” he says softly. “It’s late, we’ll do this in the morning.”

Not waiting to be told twice, she quickly bids him goodnight and heads out of the office. The medlab seems farther than she remembers it and she has to remind herself not to run; she doesn’t want to draw attention to herself.

When she gets there, she doesn’t bother knocking—she doesn’t care what policies and protocols are. To her surprise, only Simmons is in there, tapping away at her tablet. Simmons regards her with understanding eyes. “Skye, hi. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she says shortly. Taking a deep breath, she says, “How—I mean, where?”

“Trip’s alright. The medical care he received in the field kept him alive and stable and we were able to patch him up with little difficulty and no complications.” Simmons reaches for her hand, and Skye threads their fingers together for the added support. “He’s insisted on not even staying here tonight, against my advice. Said he wanted to sleep in his own bed.”

Rubbing her arm absentmindedly with her free hand, Skye nods. “So, he’s in his room?”

“He’d better be there, and resting,” Simmons says, heaving a sigh. “If not, I will personally drag him back here and give him a sedative. The last thing we need is him opening his stitches.”

Skye swallows hard. “Were there—were there a lot of stitches?”

Simmons’ eyes are soft as she wraps her arm around Skye, holding her gently. “He’s okay,” she whispers in Skye’s ear as Skye rests her head on Simmons’ shoulder. “He’s going to be just fine. I wouldn’t recommend any strenuous activity for a little while, but I expect a full recovery.”

After lingering in the hug, Skye steps back, blowing her bangs out of her face. “Thanks, Simmons. For keeping him alive.”

She smiles solemnly at that. “Trip did most of the work by not dying on us. But you know, I think you might feel better if you saw him.” She walks to the other side of the lab, picking up a small orange prescription bottle and walking back to press it in Skye’s hand. “Make sure he takes one of these too, should help him sleep without too much pain.”

The lump in her throat that she has been desperate to ignore solidifies itself and she just nods. After giving her friend another quick hug, Skye heads out to the bunks. Trip’s room is right across the hall from hers, but she dallies outside for a minute, trying to get her bearings. It’s entirely possible that she doesn’t have any bearings left.

When she knocks, he calls, “Come in!” His voice is stronger than she expected, but she can’t help but enter slowly, peeking her head in first before coming in altogether, closing the door behind her. As instructed, he’s laying out on his bed, shoulder propped up. The heavy bandage distracts her from his smile, but she shakes herself out of the dark thoughts.

“Hey, I…I brought you…” She shakes the pill container in lieu of words.

He raises an eyebrow at her, grin never fading. “Well, hello, nurse.”

She laughs at that, rolling her eyes at him. “Okay, well, you’re clearly not dying.”

“Are you kidding me?” He shakes his head, and she can see the small wince of pain at the motion. “Nah, come on, and let Fitz stew in his own guilt for the rest of his life? This place cannot handle that amount of brooding. And I bet I can get him to do my inventory duty for a month while this heals.”

Snorting, she comes to perch at the edge of his bed, setting the pills on his side table. “How is Fitz? I mean, I saw him for a bit, but—”

“He’s just fine. He didn’t get shot.” He nudges her lightly with his leg when her face falls from the reminders of the day. “Dr. Simmons gave me an extra lollipop for saving her boyfriend. You know, after she finished taking the bullet out of me and making sure I didn’t bleed out.”

She tries to smile, but it’s forced and watery as tears flood her eyes. Trip’s good hand reaches out for her, resting on her back. “Hey, now, girl,” he says. “There’s no need for that.”

Her palm comes to settle on his bare chest and the steady feeling of his heartbeat helps calm her.  “How can you be so calm about this?”

“Because I’m okay. Got the best doctor I’ve ever seen taking care of me. Got a cute nurse bringing me my meds.” He winks at her. “Fitz and Coulson didn’t get hurt and from what I heard, we even accomplished the goal of the mission, so it was mostly a success. I heal fast and there’s no permanent damage.” He brings her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips over her knuckles. “So, really, there’s nothing to be upset about. Unless you’re upset about something else?”

The sense of confusion and pain comes up her throat like bile and she swallows hard, using the feeling of his hand over hers as an anchor. “He was going to let you die,” she finally says and she’s not even sure it’s loud enough that he can hear her. “Coulson told me about my dad. That he was there and he was willing to let you die.”

“Skye—”

“My dad! He could’ve…could’ve killed you.” She chokes on the words, shaking her head furiously. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

He pulls her down against his chest and she presses her face to his neck, hoping the simple touch will stem her tears. “Now, that’s enough of that. You aren’t responsible for what your dad does. He may be something, your dad, but you are not him. And he didn’t kill me, I’m still here.”

“But the fact that he considered it—”

“Yeah, well, he probably thought I was just some random guy.”

“You’re not!” she says insistently, sitting up so she can look him in the eye. “You mean so much to me. I don’t know what I would do without you here. I’d probably have lost it already. Like father like daughter.”

He presses a gentle kiss to her cheek. “I’m gonna ignore your ridiculousness and just say that I’m glad to know that you care.”

“Of course I fucking care,” she says. It seems ludicrous to her that he doesn’t understand this. Her chest aches as she kisses him, hoping that he understands the things she’s always been bad about putting into words. Most of the things she’s feeling go beyond her ability to articulate, but as Trip kisses her back, she thinks he might like the demonstrative aspect.

When they break away, he looks at her like he’s never seen anything so beautiful and she realizes this is not the first time he’s looked at her like that. Her first instinct is to hide from his gaze, but more than that, it fills her with power and warmth and heat like she can’t remember experiencing before. Nuzzling his jaw, she says, “You’re so important.”

His lips find her forehead and he places kisses beneath her bangs. As his good hand strokes soothingly along her back, he says, “You know, I’ve never had my girl’s father hate me before, but I’m always up for new experiences.”

She barks out a laugh and is surprised at how good the words make her feel. “Yeah, well, only if you promise to stop getting shot.”

“I think I can handle that.” His arm slips lower to wrap around her waist, pulling her up against him. There’s an intensity to the way he kisses her that’s almost overwhelming. He seems torn between worshipping her and devouring her and the pressure of his mouth varies as he wars with himself. All Skye can do is try to keep up even as what’s left of her sensible thought quickly slips away.

When he palms her ass, holding her closer to him, she makes a small noise of need and pulls away. “I thought…” She trails off, panting. “I was told by Dr. Simmons that you were supposed to rest and not do anything strenuous.”

“She also told me that I should spend the night in the medlab and I didn’t listen to her then either.” His sly grin makes her stomach clench; it seems particularly chosen to wind her up. “Plus, I don’t see anything strenuous happening.”

The implied “yet” and the way he draws it out makes a rush of very active mental images go through her brain. His bare chest rises and falls with each deep breath as he stares at her, and it’s not helping much. Licking her lips, she says, “I was just supposed to come give you your pain meds.”

He shrugs his good shoulder. “Oh, trust me, I’m not in pain.” Raising his hand to stroke her hair, his smile softens. “But if you need to sleep, I’m good for that too.”

She gives him a good look, sees the exhaustion in his eyes that he’s trying to hide. Ignoring what she wants to do, she leans over to grab his prescription bottle. After shaking a pill into her hand, she grabs his water. “Say ‘ah.’” He shakes his head, laughing, but opens his mouth so she can pop the pill in. He takes the water from her to swallow it down, hardly letting her put it back on the table before he wraps his arm around her.

“Stay here tonight?” he says softly into her hair. Her heart clenches at his vulnerability, at how he even needs to ask.

Kissing his collarbone, she says, “Of course.” She waits until his breathing has turned deep and rhythmic before she dares to close her eyes. Wrapping her hand around his injured one, she falls asleep holding on to him.

When she wakes up the next morning, the bed is empty. There’s a lingering warmth between the sheets and she gravitates toward it. She presses her face into his pillow, wondering why his bed feels so much better than hers when she knows they’re exactly the same.

She drifts in and out of sleep for an undetermined amount of time, only fully waking when the door opens and Trip comes in. “Hey,” she murmurs sleepily, stretching her entire body without getting up. “Where’d you go?”

“Grabbed something to eat and then Dr. Simmons wanted to give me a checkup.” He nods to the new bandages on his wound. “Thought I’d let you sleep.”

“What’d Simmons say?”

“Other than the hole in my arm, I’m in perfect condition.”

Smiling slowly, she says, “I could have told her that.” Trip seems to hesitate by the door, leaning against his wall. “Why are you over there?”

He grins. “Just liking the view of you in my bed.”

A pleased feeling of warmth bursts in her chest and she rolls over in the bed, patting the now open spot next to her. Trip climbs in slowly, trying not to jostle his shoulder as he leans back against the pillows. She waits until he gets settled before she climbs into his lap, legs bracketing his hips. Her hands trace up his arms and she avoids his bandages as she draws her hands back down his chest.

“Whatcha doin’?” The low pitch of his voice makes her shiver.

“Giving you a checkup,” she says. Her fingers trace along the lines of his abdominal muscles and he clenches under her touch.

He raises an eyebrow at her. “We playing doctor?”

Her answer is to kiss him; he responds enthusiastically, his hand holding the back of her head. His lips send a rush of heat down her spine. Resting gently against his chest, she’s careful not to put any weight on his shoulder. Trip guides his hand down her back slowly and her arms erupt in goosebumps at his touch. He draws her closer to him and her stomach flutters as her body is pressed flat to his.

Kissing down his neck, she licks over his Adam’s apple before tracing the hollow of his throat with her tongue. His soft pants and groans are almost as delicious to hear as he is to taste and she nips gently at the sensitive spot below his ear before soothing it with her tongue. When he strokes his hand up her back underneath her shirt, she gasps and sinks her teeth into his good shoulder. Her body feels on fire and she savors the coolness of his palm against her back.

Instinctively, she rolls her hips against his and he hisses low in the back of his throat. A sense of glee fills her as she does it again. His hand grips her waist from beneath her shirt, fingers digging into her almost hard enough to bruise. She swallows hard; she wants to be able to feel proof of him for days.

Her lips return to his neck, gradually moving down, brushing against his collarbone. She drags her tongue along the swell of his pectoral muscles, smiling to herself as they flex beneath her ministrations. Every part of him is firm, but his skin is soft and the combination makes her ache. She grinds down on him to ease some of the pressure, but feeling how hard he is through his sweatpants only makes her want more.

She drags her lower teeth over his sternum, then gently bites at his nipple. Trip’s hand flies to the back of her head as he gasps. His abs are calling her and she worships them with her mouth as his fingers card thoughtfully through her hair, the pads of his fingers massaging her scalp. Each rise and dip of his muscles that her tongue runs over is magical to her and she can feel him quivering under her lips.

His hipbones are cut and stand out prominently, providing almost guidelines to the area of his body she’s most desperate for. She starts at the top of his hips and licks down both sides until her tongue reaches the top of his sweatpants. When she looks up at him, he seems to be holding his breath.

Her fingers twist in the drawstring of his pants and she can see his throat jump as he swallows hard. “Skye…”

Eyes catching his, she waits for any sign that this is not what he wants. Instead, he slowly licks his lips and nods.

She presses a soft kiss to his hipbone before unlacing the drawstring of his pants. Trip lifts his hips off the bed as she hooks her fingers into his boxers and tugs down slowly. The backs of her fingers brush along his skin as she slides the garments off his legs, leaving him completely naked in front of her.

She’s imagined this moment only about a hundred times, but the sight of him spread out in front of her, even with his bandage, is like a dream. Her daydreams and nighttime fantasies haven’t been giving him enough credit because he’s bigger than she expects. Her mouth waters as she stares him down, but she’s constantly distracted by the thick erection pressed up against his stomach.

Carefully, she wraps her hand around him as he squeezes his eyes shut and groans. He’s warm in her hand and she strokes him slowly, enchanted by the way he feels and the way his breath hitches. When she opens her mouth to run her tongue along the bottom of his shaft up towards the head, his hips lift off the bed as if trying to follow her path.

She wraps her hand around the base when she takes him inside her mouth. She bobs her head lightly as she gets used to the girth of him within her mouth. Sucking on the head, she runs her tongue along the slit. His taste and the heavy feeling on her tongue makes her want to press her legs together, find some sort of friction. The yearning only prompts her to take him deeper, opening her mouth as far as she can to suck him down.

Trip grunts in pleasure as she glides her tongue over the underside of his dick and she glances up to see him clutching at his blanket. She bobs her head quicker to increase the pleasure, not only for him but for herself. The heavy feeling of him in her mouth is perfect and she savors the weight on her tongue as she curls it around him.

Easing her mouth off of him, she traces the vein with the tip of her tongue and he jerks at the sensation. Skye holds his hips firmly with both hands as she takes him into her mouth again. She increases the power of her suction, trying to open her throat to take him deeper. When his gasps start coming quicker, she releases his hips. Instead, she moves her hands underneath his ass, encouraging him to thrust freely into her mouth.

It’s clear that he’s trying to hold back, but she squeezes his ass to reassure him that this is what she wants. His first few thrusts are smooth and rhythmic; it’s only when he starts to push in uneven jerks does she prepare herself.

He cries out her name as he comes, his eyes squeezed shut and hand gripping the sheet. Skye swallows him down eagerly; it’s not a taste she usually appreciates, but it seems everything with Trip is different. His head falls back against the headboard of the bed as she slowly withdraws her mouth. She can’t help giving him a few more licks before moving back up towards the top of the bed.

His hand comes up to cup her rear as she straddles his chest. Smiling lightly, she brushes her fingers along his jaw, grinning wider when he turns his head to kiss them. “How are you feeling?”

Laughing loudly, he says, “Feeling pretty good, actually, thanks.”

She smirks, raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re welcome.” She giggles as he tangles his hand in her hair, drawing her down for a kiss. He doesn’t seem to be at all concerned with the lingering taste of his orgasm in her mouth, his kiss deep and exploratory.

Skye forces herself to pull away from him so that she can take her shirt off. His eyes light up as he sees all the new skin bared before him. She’s surprised when his hand goes to the back of her bra and he unhooks it with practiced ease. “Done this a few times, have you?” she says.

“Never like this,” he says breathlessly as he tosses her bra aside. Skye leans forward to kiss him, fierce and quick, never lingering too long. It’s not until his hand slides up to cup her breast that she stills, moaning against his lips. His hand feels particularly wide as he palms her breast, her nipples hardening at his touch. Gently, he plays with her before switching to her other breast.

Every brush of his fingers against her sensitive skin makes her need him more, but she attempts to wait patiently while he gets his fill. “C’mere,” he pleads and she knows what he wants by his hoarse tone and the way his eyes never leave her chest. Shuffling forward, she rises a bit on her knees so that her breasts are inches away from his mouth.

Trip quickly eliminates the distance, drawing a breast into his mouth. She whimpers with need as his teeth graze her nipple and she can feel bursts of pleasure throughout her body. He’s equally as talented with his tongue as he licks over and under and across. The prickly feel of his stubble against her nipples has her clutching the back of his head and she’s not sure how long her legs will hold out.

“Trip, please,” she says, panting. Reaching blindly behind her, she finds his dick again, full and hard. He groans against her breast as she strokes him slowly. “I want you, please. Do you think we can…?”

He leans back only to kiss her softly on the lips. “Girl, I do not need two hands to make you come.” She shivers at his certainty, then again at the way his mouth finds her neck. He murmurs against her skin, “Condoms are in the bottom drawer.”

She’s certain that all of her training of strength and willpower is for this moment. After letting him suck a dark mark into her shoulder, she climbs off of him and searches the drawer. The condoms aren’t hard to find and she tosses one on the bed before ridding herself of her pants and underwear.

When she climbs back on the bed, he’s staring at her like she’s made of stars. Both hands land on her knees as they slowly rise up her thighs—she can see the wince of pain on his face as he uses his bad arm, but he doesn’t stop. It’s his good hand that finds her center, immediately pressing two fingers to her clit. A low gasp is ripped from her throat as he circles the sensitive nub, winding her up even further. “Just wanted to make sure you were ready,” he says as he pushes his middle finger inside of her, sliding in easily. She’s not sure she’s ever been this wet before.

“Always,” she says. Skye allows him to finger her for a minute before she’s reaching for the condom. She rolls it over his erection with care and precision before mounting him again. Trip’s hand is already on her hip, steadying her as she sinks slowly down onto him. It takes her a second to acclimate as Trip’s fingers flex into the skin of her hip; he’s so big and she’s so full and it’s everything she’s ever wanted.

She’s never been as fond of her well-trained balance as she is right now, riding him. Her core and leg muscles bear the brunt of the work but it’s easy to ignore the uncomfortable burn when everything else is perfect. He’s stretching her just right and the pace is leisurely and satisfying.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he says and the words come out husky and broken. She feels beautiful in a way that she hasn’t in a long time, with Trip’s eyes on her and his hand on her waist; it’s hard to remember a time when she felt stronger.

His hand moves down to palm her ass and it emboldens her to move faster on top of him. His grip is gentle and possessive as he helps lift her up and down him, their bodies moving perfectly in sync. She wants to take him deeper, feel every inch of him.

Leaning her hands on his chest for balance, she adjusts quickly to a slightly different position where that’s possible. Though she’s careful to not put too much weight on his bad shoulder, she uses him to support her as she slides down on him again and again, feeling his thrusts deep within her. He doesn’t seem to mind, his groans clearly of pleasure.

Once she’s steady, he removes his hand from her ass up to her chest again. Skye bites her lip in pleasure when he tweaks her nipple. Her chest bounces with each thrust, and Trip has his hand out so they graze his palm each time. “Next time I’m gonna put my mouth on you everywhere,” he promises. His gaze is strong with assurances and lust. “Gonna kiss every part of you.”

She can only respond with a choked moan; the idea of him orally exploring her is almost as great as the feeling of him within her now and she rocks faster. He’s so deep inside of her now, stretching her like no one ever has. “Yes, yes, yes,” she chants as the pace of his thrusts increases and she quickly adjusts to the new rhythm.

She’s watching him as he slowly licks his lips and he says, “Can you touch yourself?” She shivers at the idea, at the raspy honey of his voice.

As much as it’s a question, a request, she feels compelled to do it. Her fingers glide through her slick as she caresses her folds. If she reaches down far enough, she can touch his dick as it moves inside of her and that feeling of her fingertips on him makes Trip thrust even harder. She’s already moaning as she touches her clit, rubbing it in the way that she knows is best to get herself off. Trip’s more erratic thrusts are evidence that he’s getting close and she doesn’t want him to be alone.

He’s watching her intently and she wonders what kind of picture she presents. She feels wild and beautiful, her body bared before him, his hands on her skin. She grinds down hard on him as she rubs her clit, overwhelmed with pleasure. As her hand tightens on his chest, nails digging into his skin, she can feel herself starting to reach the peak.

Her orgasm shoots through her like a gunshot, sudden and powerful. The pleasure is everywhere at once. It’s the most intense things she can ever remember feeling, eyes squeezing shut and his name becoming lost in her moans. He holds her through it, continuing to fuck her as she shudders in pleasure.

Skye opens her eyes just as Trip comes, and watching his face is like an aftershock of sensation down her spine. He’s beautiful at the worst of times, but to see him come apart and feel him empty himself inside of her stuns her in an entirely new way. She doesn’t ever want to stop hearing him call out her name like this.

When he stops moving, head back against the pillows as he pants, she lays down on his chest. He holds her close, pressing his lips against the top of her head. She can feel his labored breathing, his rapidly fluttering heartbeat; it’s exactly what she needs, to feel how alive he is.

Nuzzling her face into his neck as she pulls off of him, she knows she’ll be feeling this for a while and isn’t the least bit sad about that. Trip eases her off next to his side so that he can get out of the bed and dispose of the condom. When he returns, she curls up to his side and kisses him softly.

She settles into his embrace easily, head on his shoulder and legs thrown over his. “Thanks for not dying,” she whispers into his skin.

Laughing, he kisses her forehead. “And miss this? Are you kidding me, I would come back from the dead for this.”

Grinning fondly, she traces the line of his bandage with her index finger. “How about this, every time you don’t get shot, we can maybe do it again.”

“Oh, yeah?” He grins down at her, his eyes shining. “In that case, might have to see about getting myself a shield, Cap-style.”

Shaking her head as she laughs, Skye wraps her arm around him, completely comfortable in this moment. She knows there’s things to do outside his door, training, and prepping, and alien cities. But right now, Trip needs his rest. Most importantly, she knows, closing her eyes, she needs him.


End file.
